Excuse Number Seven
by greysnyper
Summary: From a challenge. Tim Drake is uncomfortable.


He isn't supposed to stay this long, having gotten permission earlier to use excuse number seven to bail out.

Bruce's instructions had been fair and welcome. _Plant the tracer, sit and look bored. Excuse number seven and I'll let you go. Alfred will be waiting in the lobby and you can get to work on the ongoing cases._

Easy as pie, which is what the waiter is carrying as he passes by. The chip that Tim's planted is likely recording every sound in the room. His work truly is done, but now Luthor's pulled the excuse out from retreat by inviting Tim into the conversation.

And he's offering sympathy for the late-Jack Drake.

"Yes, it's a shame," Tim says, trying to...sound like a son.

He doesn't steal a glance at Bruce. It's the only thing that seems obvious in maintaining his character. His most natural response is to tell Luthor to stay the hell away from such subjects, but anger at Lex Luthor, though justified in mostly every way, doesn't help him here.

He's not Robin, a friend of Batman and Superman or even a concerned citizen who never liked the man. He's Tim Drake, orphan and ward to Lex's business partner.

Bruce clears his throat and softly comments about how it's been a difficult year for everyone.

"Yes," nods Luthor, almost too cheery to be real. "But I can't help but applaud your choice in a successor. No offense to you, Timothy, but you come from a middle-class family and Bruce here, he's famous for incorporating the 'little guy' into his business. Profit-sharing. It's fortunate that he's found a talented boy like yourself. Especially the timing..."

"I'm sorry?" Tim asks, thinking it better to say nothing. Would he be believable with just a nod and a wave for some pie? Instead, he's reading between the lines. He's thinking too much like Robin.

What does Luthor want?

Bruce opens his mouth and then shuts it. There may be a kick under the table soon, but for once Tim thinks that maybe even Bruce would be out of place.

Luthor gives a disarming smile that fails, though he'll never know it. "The tragedy of losing a parent like that, I can't imagine. A super-powered intruder hired by some unknown source. It is very favourable that Mr. Wayne had heard about it."

The implication...

"I had also lost a family," Bruce states in his sympathetic tone. It's very convincing, so much that Tim keeps from snapping something he'd regret. "We share something most _others_ fail to understand. I'd consider it a blessing."

Luthor hesitates before nodding. "How touching. I'm happy for you both."

Tim sees Bruce steal a glance at him and wonders if now would be a good time to get up. Excuse himself, if only to visit the restrooms to flush his seething out in private. Instead, Tim reaches out to play with the cool surface of his fork. "I don't suppose you've ever thought of training someone to eventually succeed you?"

He raises a brow and asks the question as innocently as he can, trying to make it seem as if the answer doesn't really matter to him. A twist in the small-talk.

He doesn't smile when he notices Lex stiffen in the slightest observable way.

"It's crossed my mind."

There's an edge in Lex's voice, and Bruce looks ready to say something about the subtle challenge.

Tim ducks his head first. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you needed a replacemen--that you're not old. Uh, because you're not. You're not even graying and..."

Bruce clears his throat, apparently bailing his ward out from embarrassment. "Maybe you should go find the waiter with the dessert tray. Lex and I do have some business we wanted to discuss..."

"Right," Tim murmurs. "Sorry. Uh, want me to take Alfred some pie?"

"Sounds like a plan," Bruce states.

"It was pleasant meeting with you, Timothy," Luthor nods. "I'll have some flowers sent to the cemetery this afternoon."

"How kind of you," Tim concedes, nearly running into a woman with an oversized tray. 

When Tim is thankfully out of earshot, the recording chip picks up Luthor's comment that Bruce's ward is also as clumsy as Bruce tends to be.

"Oh," muses Bruce Wayne with two kinds of smiles. "He's more like me than you know."


End file.
